


Once Upon a Dream

by balourd



Category: Monster (Manga)
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Canon, Birthday Party, Costume Parties & Masquerades, Dubious Consent, Emotional Manipulation, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, First Kiss, First Time, Incest, Memory Loss, Rape/Non-con Elements
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-30
Updated: 2014-04-30
Packaged: 2018-01-21 08:15:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,204
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1543919
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/balourd/pseuds/balourd
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>All nightmares begin as dreams.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Once Upon a Dream

**Author's Note:**

> Serious TW for alcohol, rape, incest.

Nina is getting tired of disappointing people. She’s getting tired of the almost imperceptible frown her mother wears when Nina says she’ll be staying home this weekend (and the next, and the next). She’s tired of hearing Mrs. Fortner’s sweet voice break with motherly concern as she says as delicately as possible, “You know Nina, we wouldn't mind so much if you brought a boy home to dinner one day. You’re so pretty; they must be falling all over you.”

The truth is, they are, and it makes her uncomfortable to say the least. She doesn't like the way some of her friends have turned into suitors. They all leave with a bitter taste on their tongues. She doesn't like the way they can make her laugh with her head back in innocent glee and then look at her in the next second like a wolf watching its’ prey. She doesn't like the way they treat her after their inevitable rejection. Though some will accept it with grace and continue being her friend, most scowl and whisper amongst themselves terrible names that her ears can’t help but pick up on occasion (bitch, prude, cunt). She cringes and tries not to turn in on herself just as accusatory as her critics and ask, what’s wrong with you? Why don’t you want them? You’ll never know what love is like, you’re not human, what are you?

One day she gets tired of making up excuses and decides to get a few real ones. She goes to college, joins clubs, gets a part time job, and never has time to think too much of why she needs to keep herself so busy. When her mother asks her if she’ll be having anyone over for her twentieth birthday, Nina does her best to pout and says that she has to work and just doesn't have the time. When she turns around she’s grinning. 

Her first therapist perceives that when talking of romantic relationships Nina grows visibly uncomfortable, and through he knows not to force her to talk much on the subject, one day asks, “Nina, do you ever want to fall in love?”

She stiffens abruptly and looks down, somewhat embarrassed. “Yes, I… of course I do. I get uneasy around people who so obviously… want something from me. I’m not, er, saving myself for any religious or strict moral code, it’s just, I haven’t found someone who can make that uneasiness go away.” She gazes up at him and quickly adds, “Yet, I mean, I haven’t found anyone yet.”

The therapist shifts and folds his hands on his lap and says softly, “Love and sex can often seem like a sacrifice, but in general, Nina, they are an exchange. You share a part of yourself with someone, and in return, they share a part of themselves with you. They’re both healthy ways for adults to bond and connect with each other. I’m worried, Nina, that you feel that there is a part of you that you can’t share. Perhaps you feel that you have something to hide; something that can’t be shared.”

Nina changes the subject casually and politely thanks him for his time, and doesn't see him again. From then on she makes a habit of only speaking to her therapists of her nightmares, her acute anxieties, and her memory loss. 

She makes friends relatively easily at her new school, all of them respectful and far more mature than the ones she had and lost in high school. Boys still flirt with her but seem to pick up on her lack of interest soon enough, and either let go or stay contented with her friendship. 

When she gets the email she feels a strange nervous tension in her stomach. She reads it over and over to herself, I was born to smother you in flowers, I was born to smother you in flowers, I was born to smother you in flowers, and she realizes with a start that she’s blushing, and this is the most romantic thing anyone’s ever said to her. There’s no trace of a name or a clue of who it is, but she’s never felt so flustered from a sentence before. 

Slowly, however, reality dulls her wild and strange happiness. She normalizes it and says to herself that it was just Peter flirting with her, joking with her, and here she is getting worked up over him, she’s being ridiculous, this isn't some fairytale, etc. 

Peter looks up at her with irritation when she mentions it casually, trying to make it seem as though she hadn't been fascinated by it at first. He mumbles through his breath, “I didn’t email you, Nina. It was somebody else.”

She looks up disbelievingly and says with a laugh, “Then who is it, Peter?”

He glares back at her and mutter, “Hell if I know, some new rival. It wasn't me; I wouldn't do something that cheesy.”

When she gets home there’s a new one blinking at her through the screen. She feels a strange anticipation in lowering her hand onto the mouse. This one is less romantic, and in the back of her mind Nina thinks she should be a little more disturbed than she is (not at all). It reads, bluntly,

“I will pick you up soon.”

Despite herself yet again, she blushes.

 

When she tells her friends they roll their eyes with jaded experience. “You really think some prince is going to come for you on a white horse, Nina?” Asks one of them, brushing her hair back from her shoulder.

“That sounds creepy, guys don’t say stuff like that anymore.” says another one, but adds quietly, “It’s kind of romantic though, that kind of old fashioned thing.” Nina grins in reply.

“Yeah, yeah, romance, flowers; mysterious, princely, stalkers, that’s great. But more importantly, Nina, I’d like to remind you that your birthday is tomorrow.” The first girl says with a subtle smile as she wraps her arm around Nina’s shoulder. “Perhaps, I should add, that we might have, possibly, put together a festival of sorts, sometimes referred to as a birthday party, for our dear friend’s big twentieth.”

Nina’s grin is wiped off her face and she spits out, “I can’t, I’m so sorry, I have to work, I really appreciate it, thank you so much,” but her friend pushes a finger to her lips and smiles mischievously.

“We've taken care of that, obviously. One of the boys there seemed more than happy to cover your shift.”

Nina blanches and looks down nervously. “I don’t know what to do at parties, not big ones anyway, and you went through so much trouble…”

Her friend smiles and touches her back reassuringly. “Thought of that too! It’s going to be a masquerade themed party! No one will even know who’s who. Can’t embarrass yourself if you’re anonymous. And don’t even bother saying you don’t have a mask, I've obviously got you covered. What are best friends for?”

“Besides,” adds the other one, “we really need to get you laid.”

Nina’s face is as white as a sheet of paper.

 

That night she dreams of walking up a hill covered in bright yellow sunflowers. She feels peaceful and strolls contentedly with her arms outstretched, her fingers grazing the pretty yellow petals. There’s a song in the air, someone familiar singing her a lullaby, someone with a voice like honey and silk. She lies down amongst the flowers and feels a sudden shift, a departure of her peace and feels the earth bending and sinking underneath her weight. She quickly moves to sit up and get out of this trap but it’s too late and her body isn't responding fast enough. The soil is in her mouth, covering her eyes and she’s clawing, fighting, and sinking, sinking deeper and deeper into her own grave.

When she wakes up she remembers nothing but feels vaguely disturbed most of the morning.

The day passes normally, Mrs. Fortner bakes an old fashioned cake for her and Mr. Fortner watches with the newspaper, grumbling but content. Her parents stop her on her way out and tell her that they have something important to talk to her about when she gets home. Nina’s heart sinks when she sees her mother’s worried expression, but her father puts a reassuring hand on her shoulder and tells her to enjoy herself. 

 

Her friends pick her up when the sun begins to set. They take her to one of their houses first, dress her in a soft, white summer dress that buttons in the front from the top to the very bottom and is a little less modest than what she’s used to. They place a rather small beige mask over her face; it’s covered ridiculous sparkles and outlined in gold glitter and is only big enough to just cover her eyes. They make her pucker her lips as they paint them candy apple red, and whisper little reassurances when she grows self conscious. When they’re finished and not looking she manages to grab a dark red cardigan and wraps it around her shoulders despite their immediate disapproval upon noticing. 

“Where exactly is this party anyway?” Nina says, changing the subject expertly.

“Peter’s house.” Her friend grins. “He’s practically living in a mansion. It’s pretty far into the hills so there aren't any whining neighbors to be found, and his parents are away on business so we can go as crazy as we like.” 

The other one sees Nina shift nervously and smiles at her sweetly and whispers, “It’s okay Nina, it’s just going to be a few people dancing. If you get too nervous we can leave at any time.”

 

When they arrive to Peter’s house Nina is dismayed to find what “a few people” means to her friends. Cars are parked as far down the road as the eye can see and there’s a pumping bassline that’s loud enough to reach her ears from fairly far away. Despite her social reservations, Nina can’t help but be elated by her surroundings. Giant trees tower over her and are so thickly pushed together that you can barely see more than a few feet into the woods that surround Peter’s house. They were right about not having any neighbors nearby too; the last house she had seen had been a good couple of miles behind them. The smell of the trees calms her down a little, and she fights the urge to disappear into them and explore the mysterious woods. 

A tug on her sleeve brings her back to her immediate surroundings, and her friends are looking at her while they slide their on masks on, grinning expectantly. “Well, what do you think?”

“I think,” Nina takes a deep breath to try to quell the left over anxiety. “that this is all very, very kind of you guys and I’m really grateful. You really shouldn't have.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Says one of them, rolling her eyes but still smiling. “Let’s just go inside before you get all mushy on us. It’s getting really dark and these trees give me the creeps.”

Nina nods in reply.

For a birthday party thrown for her, she doesn't know very many people there. The music is loud and pumping and the only lights on in the whole house are the occasional strands of fairy lights here and there, casting a soft pink glow on the wildly gyrating bodies of the partygoers. And they are wild. She can barely tell one person from the next, their bodies seem to merge with the music and with each other. She’s embarrassed but somewhat fascinated, seeing this kind of primal ritual performed for everyone to see. Everyone’s lost in the night.

Her friend slips a plastic cup full of something neon pink into her hands and whispers something in her ear that Nina can’t make out and disappears into the crowd of bodies, leaving her pressed against the wall alone. She sips at the drink in her hands nervously, tries to make herself look busy, and wonders if she knows any more than four or five people in this congregation of masked youths. A few stop by to chat idly with her every now and then but she can’t recognize their voices. When she finishes her drink she says quietly to herself, “I should have stayed home.”

She’s bored now; lost her fascination with the masked dancers. She spies a table with a bowl full of the drink she’d finished off out of the corner of her eye and heads towards it because at least it’s something to do. Thankfully, she recognizes one of her friends’ masks hovering nearby, and after fixing herself another drink she makes her way through the crowd to reach her. She’s grinning at Nina widely and reaches her hand out for her to hold. “Nina, I've been looking for you all over!” She says, glances down to the cup in her friend’s hand and looks back up with wide eyes. “You know that there’s alcohol in that right? Like, a lot. Are you okay?”

Nina freezes and looks down at her drink. It had tasted like strawberry candy- a bit too sweet, but nothing too out of the ordinary about it. “Uh, no, I didn't know that.” 

Her friend hangs her mouth open and shakes her head. “Okay, after that one you’re done, alright? Any more than that and you can blackout. Jesus, Nina, it’s filled to the brim… that’s not how you’re supposed to drink.”

Nina blanches and looks to her friend with wide eyes. “I didn't know. Uh, I've never had… alcohol before. A few sips of wine but never anything hard.” She’s frightened now. “I don’t feel really… any different”

“Never mind, I’ll keep an eye on you. I’m sure you wouldn't be a rowdy drunk anyway. And besides, you've got your little mask on remember? No one knows who you are. I didn't mean to scare you, it’s just a drink. I was a little surprised is all.” She smiles and squeezes her friend’s hand gently. “We've got a surprise for you, by the way. We might have found your prince on a white horse! There’s this guy that showed up a little while ago, no one’s with him, and he said he’s looking for you! I don’t know if he’s the one that sent the email but… he’s definitely worth checking out.” She winks at the pale girl suggestively.

The drink almost falls from Nina’s grasp and she looks around frantically. “I’m not sure- I mean, I think I’d rather just go home, I don’t feel very well. You were right, I, uh, I think the drinking’s getting to me.” Her pleas are lost on her friend, who’s gazing over Nina’s shoulder with a grin. She waves to someone behind her and Nina feels dread sink into her stomach. She’s being set up. 

She feels a tap on her shoulder and spins around to see her other friend smiling widely. There‘s a man close behind her and Nina feels her stomach flip completely. “Found you,” Says her friend, grabbing her by the sleeve and pulling her closer. “We got you some company, so make nice okay?” Before Nina can move to reply her friends are off disappearing into the crowd, leaving her alone with the stranger. 

She glances up at him shyly and tries her best to smile. He’s quite a few inches taller than her, dressed in a simple white dress shirt and a black blazer. His mask is pure white and unadorned, the only defining feature of it is shape of the nose, which curves out a small bit, almost like a beak. Pale blonde hair falls over the edges of the mask and frames the shape of his face very well, and his mouth is curved with the tiniest hint of an almost melancholy smile. She thinks to herself that he must be very handsome underneath that mask, but there’s something about his eyes. They’re ice blue and peering down at her through the holes in the mask and they make her feel uneasy. “I’m Nina,” She begins, trying her best to ease the awkward tension her friends left behind in their wake. “Sorry about them, they’re kind of… they’re desperate for me to try to have fun tonight I guess.”

“You’re not having a good time?” He asks. For some reason his voice seems familiar, and she shivers involuntarily.

“It’s not that, I’m just not used to parties.” She sips her drink nervously, forgetting her friend’s warning. It’s hard to think straight when she looks into his eyes, so she casts hers down. “I didn't catch your name, by the way?”

He doesn't reply until she looks up to meet his gaze. “Isn't this party being held for you?” He pauses, seems to be contemplating something silently, and finally adds, “You can call me Johan.”

She swallows the last drop in her cup and nods. “It is, it’s my birthday party. And it’s thrown with very good intentions, I’m sure.” A blush spreads across her cheeks. “They said that you were looking for me, though? I think you’re just about the only person here who has a clue that this is a birthday party.”

“Happy birthday,” he says, smiling gently. He moves closer and reaches out to her, taking the empty cup from her hands and placing it on the table. His eyes never stray from her. She doesn't bother to ask again why he was searching for her, why he’s here, how he knows her. She doesn't bother because it’s clear, somehow, that this is the man who sent those emails to her. Her heart’s pounding in her chest and her head is starting to spin.

“Life is not a fairy tale.” She warns herself silently over and over. “Don’t trust him, you don’t know him. He’s a stranger. Don’t trust him.” Her body feels electric, her fingertips are tingling. The music is too loud and she wants to hear his voice better. She wants to understand why when he speaks it fills a hole in her heart that she wasn't even aware was there before. “Do you want to go outside?” She says, softly, disregarding every ounce of reason in her body. She feels warm and intoxicated by the drink, the lights, and mostly by the man who’s standing so close to her without once touching her. He makes her feel calm and anxious at the same time, and she needs to know how. “It’s too loud in here, there are too many people.”

He nods and steps to the side, clearing a way for her to leave. As she walks she notices just how dizzy she is, and tries hard to hide it. She can feel his eyes on her back, and sighs with relief when they’re outside and able to face each other. The air is crisp but not cold, and the moon is near full overhead. The problem now is she has no idea what to say to him. Her mind goes blank when she raises her eyes to his and he makes no effort to speak, seeming comfortable with watching her in silence. 

There’s a soft breeze echoing through the woods and the sound makes her feel calmer. The sky is covered with bright stars tonight, and casts a beautiful blue light on everything around her. This is exactly where she wants to be. Relaxation is coming easier to her with each minute now, the warmth of alcohol making her skin hot. She turns from him shyly and pulls off her cardigan, hoping that he’s somehow stopped watching her. 

Suddenly his soft voice cuts through the silence. “Would you like to walk with me, Nina?”

She spins around and gives him a questioning look. 

“I’m familiar with this area, and there’s a place nearby that I’d like to bring you to.” She doesn't reply and looks him up and down, unsure of how much trust she should place in a man she’s exchanged just a few words with. “I believe that you would find it very beautiful.” He extends his hand to her calmly and hers twitches with an impulse to reach for it. 

“I don’t know,” She says, trying desperately to be wary of him. It’s difficult and exhausting; somehow all she wants to do is be close to him. “My friends might worry, and how do you know what I think is beautiful? How do you know me?”

He smiles that melancholy smile that for some reason makes her heart ache and says, simply, “I won’t hurt you.”

She reaches forward and slips her smaller hand in his because she inexplicably yet firmly believes him, and also because she feels a need to touch him. Besides, she’s trained in Akido and fully capable of protecting herself.

They walk in silence a ways down the road with their hands linked together. Questions run through Nina’s head nonstop; she wants to know what’s come over her, is it just the alcohol? No, there’s something strange about him. He fills a place in her life that she didn't know existed. Maybe, she thinks, he knew her from the time that she’s lost- her early childhood. If only he’d just speak again, she could close her eyes and listen intently and wait until her head’s full of his soft voice, maybe she’d remember him. Johan, Johan, Johan, she tosses the name around her mind to no avail. 

He stops and releases her hand abruptly along the road and points to a barely perceptible clearing in the thickly knotted trees. She glances at the clearing and back at him, and knows in the back of her head that she’s a fool for trusting him. She’s also aware that trying to fight her impulses to trust and be close to him isn't going to work. 

So she walks in front of him, bending twigs back to squirm through the trees. There’s a small path forming and she’s following it wordlessly. Her cheeks are hot and her heart is racing, and the effects of the alcohol are setting in full force, making it harder to walk gracefully. They walk for about fifteen minutes into the woods when she stops and sees what she was brought to this place for. 

There’s a large clearing in the midst of all of the towering trees with a small hill in the center. The hill is covered with a myriad of multi-colored flowers; daisies, bright red poppies, forget-me-nots, buttercups, and morning glories are so densely scattered over it that she can’t see the grass that must lie beneath them. The moon is bright and positioned almost directly overhead, enabling her to take in the whole image with clarity. She is speechless, gazing with wide eyes at the landscape before her. 

Johan brushes past her and begins up the hill wordlessly, his hands in his pockets. Nina watches him and tries hard to maintain control over herself, and follows. When they reach the top and he turns to face her again, there are tears in her eyes. 

“Thank you, Johan.” Her hands are quivering and it’s hard to see straight. “This place is perfect. I just can’t understand, I can’t remember. Who are you? Why are you doing this? Please answer me.” 

She knows somehow that he won’t. 

Nina moves towards him and her foot catches on a knot of stems, tipping her forward suddenly. He catches her before she falls, gripping both of her arms in his hands. Her head touches his chest briefly but he pulls her away the instant it makes contact. She looks up at him in embarrassed horror and even worse, he’s not looking at her. His head is turned and he’s staring off somewhere in the distance contemplatively. It’s impossible to read his expression, especially with his mask still equipped.

Now she’s deeply embarrassed, turning redder by the second. He had pushed her away like something grotesque, but his hands are still holding firm on her upper arms. Great, she thinks, you've managed to make a fool of yourself in front of the only man you've ever felt anything for. She feels the string on the back of her head come loose and her mask falls to her feet, and she feels exposed. She can feel the heat on her cheeks and knows that she’s blushing, and can’t look anywhere besides down at her feet at this point. She stands limp in his hands for what seems like forever, until he finally turns his eyes back on her. 

Nina dares to meet his gaze again only then, and she can see there’s something strange in his eyes. They trace the strands of her tousled hair that brush her face, her eyes, her cheeks, linger on her mouth, and he leans down slowly and brushes his lips on her blushing cheek as gently as possible. She shivers and moves forward, leaning softly on his chest. Johan finally eases his grip on her arms, wrapping one arm around her shoulders and pulling her firmer against him. He smells like cloves and something she can‘t quite put a name to, but it’s nostalgic and intoxicating. His chest feels somewhat tense against her, but she’s warm and pliant and closes her eyes trustingly as he moves his other hand to brush a lock of hair behind her ear.

Everything is hazy, strange, and dream like, and all she can think of is lying down with him in the flowers. Any reasonable person will tell you that you can’t truly love someone after knowing them for only a few hours, but right now Nina feels like their case is an exception; he is, after all, her prince on a white horse. I was born to smother you in flowers. She’s in a fairytale come true, she thinks. 

That’s why she raises her head from his chest while he’s still running his fingers through her hair (how does he know that that’s her favorite place to be touched?) and leans forward, raising herself to the tips of her toes to brush her lips against his, as innocent as a child; her first kiss.

Johan stiffens as soon as the contact is made, but she’s too lost to notice. She smiles at him shyly, her hands clenching at his shirt to maintain balance. He remains motionless, his expression unreadable as always.

Life is not a fairy tale, but no one’s taught Nina this yet. There are people out there with voices like warm honey and kisses like rose petals that bite deeper than any wolf. 

She wants to know what he’s thinking; she wants to see the face of her prince. She moves her hand to his mask and tries to lift it off but he finally moves to stop her, grabbing her wrist. 

“I can’t see your face, but you can see mine?”

“For now.” His voice is sharp and she knows to drop the subject, feeling a bit chastised. Her heart is beating rapidly against his chest and she wonders if he can feel it; if he knows how electric he makes her feel. They remain in silence, pressed against each other for about a minute when he gently lifts her chin and leans down, brushing his lips against hers this time, light as a feather. Unlike her, though, he lingers, feeling her soft breath against him. Her eyes are closed, eyelashes casting a light shadow over her cheeks but his remain open the whole time, locked on her. His thumb rubs a gentle circle on her temple (how does he know how to touch me?) while his lips ghost over hers and his arm locks her pliant frame as close against him as possible. She shivers when she feels his tongue lightly trace against the full curve of her lips. How grateful she is to be held so firmly against him for, by now she would have surely lost her footing. It’s impossible to think straight with him so close, and she wants so badly for him to be closer, so she opens her mouth just a little, allowing him entrance. 

He sinks deeper into her, his tongue softly exploring her mouth, gently nudging hers. She’s blushing and her heart’s racing, and though she tries to move her tongue against his, she’s never done this before and what if she moves the wrong way and ruins it? So instead she keeps her lips parted and lets him plunder her mouth slowly, hungrily. She feels as though she’s being devoured. 

Before she can even recognize the sensation, she’s being lowered delicately to the ground, and he’s kissing her so tenderly that she can’t think to stop him. Soon she’s lying on her back atop the flowers with him hovering over her, careful not to crush her under his weight. He’s still kissing her, and all Nina can think is that he tastes like honey. 

Gradually he eases up, choosing instead to press seemingly chaste ones on her lips. She smiles and laughs quietly, pushing his shoulders away half-heartedly while he smothers her with soft kisses.

Johan stops when she opens her eyes finally to look at him with innocent adoration. She’s splayed out under him, her hair tangled in flowers and lips swollen with kisses. She raises one of her hands to cup the side of his face affectionately while he gazes down at her.

“You’re beautiful,” He says, hovering over her.

Nina’s heart leaps. She’s long since forgotten common sense. The world is spinning around her and the only thing that stays still in her vision is this beautiful man. “Please,” She whispers, gently pulling him closer. “Please don’t be a dream.”

Johan lowers himself down and kisses her again, pushing his tongue into her mouth faster this time, and she’s lost her self-consciousness sometime in the night so she kisses back at last, her tongue meeting his almost desperately. There’s something strange building in her, something she’s never felt before. An unusual need, a hunger to be near him, to have him closer and closer. Before she can protest he’s removing his lips again, bringing them to her jaw line, to her neck. She stretches out to allow him easier access. He leaves small bruises behind every kiss, trailing gradually lower and lower.

Nina feels his hands roam over her, finding the buttons of her dress and undoing them one by one, never ceasing the kisses that now reach her collarbone. She sighs when she feels the cool air of the night touch her bare stomach, her dress splayed out on both sides but still attached by the sleeves. He kisses down her chest and she feels his hands behind her, working on the clasp of her bra, and pulling it off of her body smoothly, leaving her in nothing but underwear. 

The night sky spins blurrily overhead, all she can focus on is Johan. 

He’s kissing her neck again now as he brings his hand to cup her breast, massaging it gently. She’s letting little involuntary sighs out and with every one his grip grows a bit firmer.

Nina has to close her eyes when he lowers his head to press a soft kiss to her nipple, and she can’t help but gasp when he wraps his lips around it and sucks softly, his fingers caressing the other one. He alternates between them for a few minutes, nipping and kissing the sensitive buds and eliciting little noises from Nina’s throat. 

She barely feels his hands slide down her sides, stroking her hips and tracing his fingers over the milky skin of her quivering thighs, then sliding off her underwear smoothly.

Slowly he ceases working on her breasts, choosing instead to lay soft kisses down the line of her flat stomach. He hovers over the small tuft of hair in the apex of her thighs, and lowers his head to gently brush his lips against her folds. 

Nina gasps and shoots up, and the world spins faster around her in her vertigo. Johan holds her thighs around his shoulders with firm pressure and looks into her wide eyes as he licks, slow and deliberate. Her back arches and she whimpers, confused and filled with an ache she’s never known before. She feels vulnerable, spread open with him so close and it’s embarrassing but so terribly arousing to feel his tongue graze over her.

He continues, picking up the pace steadily, licking up and down before separating her with his tongue, alternating between gazing through half-lidded eyes at her expression and the sweet wetness poised and open before him. He focuses his attentions now on the small pink bud above her entrance, licking and sucking at it as gently as possible and earning the most angelic cry from the back of Nina’s throat. She squirms against him, her body shaking, beckoning him closer and closer. 

Johan releases one of her thighs and it falls limp on his shoulder. He brings a finger to her entrance, tracing the wetness lightly, his mouth relentless in its plunder. “So beautiful,” He mutters against her, sliding a finger inside. 

Nina’s head is thrown back wantonly and it’s impossible to think straight at this point. His finger is so long and careful in its ministrations, and his mouth feels so good and hot on her and the hand still on her thigh is gripping it so deliciously. To put it simply, Nina’s never felt as amazing as she does right now, being stimulated so lovingly by a man she’s just met a couple hours ago.

When he slides in another finger and begins to move them inside of her, it take seconds before she’s gasping and whining and shivering, coming as he licks at her hard now, pulling her closer when her hips quiver in over-stimulation. 

Eventually she can’t take anymore, panting and shaking and sensitive. “Please, Johan,” She whimpers, “It’s too much.”

He withdraws his fingers and positions himself above her face, gazing down at her with those strange blue eyes. 

When she looks at him she knows that the ache in her hasn't gone away, if anything it’s gotten worse. 

Nina brings her hand up to caress his cheek again (you’re so familiar), trace his jaw line gently, down to his lean chest, and finally his belt. She’s blushing and he’s staring down at her the whole time, making it harder for her to think straight, and she’s fumbling with it clumsily in her hand.

Well, it’s embarrassing, but she’s never done this before. 

He grabs her hand gently, raises it so it’s curled around his neck. She hears him unbuckle the belt, sliding it off with no difficulty. Hears his pants unbutton, closes her eyes as she hears the zipper being pulled down. 

Her chest hitches when she feels him positioned against her entrance, and she winces in anticipation.

He doesn't move.

She opens her eyes hesitantly and he’s so close, his chest perfectly pressed on hers, his legs between her spread thighs. His face hovering over her, so near, and he’s lowering his head to kiss her gently, rubbing circles on her temples again. He kisses her so tenderly, she feels like she’s known him for years, feels like she’s loved him for years. 

“Will you keep your eyes open for me?”

Nina blushes and nods under him, and he leans down again and captures her lips in a warm kiss as he eases carefully into her. 

The first thing she notices is that he looks like an angel in the moonlight, his cold eyes shining brilliantly in the dark. The second is, unfortunately, the pain. 

She bites her lip in an attempt to keep from crying, but it’s to no avail. On top of this being her first time, he’s unusually large, and it feels like he’s splitting her apart slowly. An involuntary whimper escapes her throat and he shushes her softly, kissing away her tears, still lowering into her. As gentle as he is, as much as she wants to feel him in her, as much as she wants to please him, she wants to beg him to stop.

Nina’s always been stubborn though, and she has no intention of disappointing him. 

Soon she realizes, with relief, that he’s fully sheathed inside her, staying still to give her time to adjust. He’s cradling her so tenderly, whispering soft encouragements into her and it’s sending shivers down her spine. His presence hurts less and less with each second, and she looks up at him and smiles warmly, almost proud. 

She feels him pulse suddenly inside of her and gasps, squirming against his hips to feel that delicious sensation again. He moans above her and bends his head down to bury it in her tousled hair. 

His hips remain still, and she’s getting bolder. She writhes against him as much as she can, taking in with delight every involuntary movement within her, every sigh he murmurs against her ear.

With a particularly teasing push of her hips, he groans into her ear words that immediately stop her movements, freezing her completely mid-grind.

“I love you.” Johan says.

Nina’s eyes are wide, and she thinks, simply, you can’t.

There’s no way, right? Even if he knows her from the time that she’s forgotten, nothing can be this perfect, not even her prince. But he’s no drunken vision; he’s buried inside of her, his breath is hot on her throat. 

Maybe this is what love feels like; her insatiable hunger to be near him, how he drew her to him like a moth to a flame. How she trusted him blindly enough to follow him into the woods after exchanging a few words. How she let him take her virginity with no protest. And he had sounded so sincere, like a confession rather than a manipulative lie. What did he have to manipulate her into at this point anyway? 

She feels so warm, so full, and finally close enough to him.

Nina’s never felt romantic love before, and she thinks she might feel it now, so she turns her head to his, still buried in her messy hair, and whispers, “I love you too, Johan.”

Maybe she does. Maybe she feels something for him that’s not so easy to categorize.

Johan moves suddenly, pulling his hips back so that he’s almost withdrawn completely from her, pausing to raise his head from the crook of neck and look down at her before slowly pushing himself into her again, burying himself as deep as her body can withstand. 

Her eyelashes flutter and she gasps at the exquisite sensation, pushing back against him shamelessly. She feels insatiable; she needs more and more of him. Her hands clench at his chest, wrinkling his shirt while he thrusts into her again and again, slightly faster each time, and she’s writhing and moaning beneath him. There’s nothing like it that she’s felt before. Her body is tingling and she feels so full, so complete and he’s bringing a hand down to gently stroke her clit with each thrust. She starts to quiver again and she’s coming once more, gasping and clinging to him desperately while he coaxes as intense of an orgasm as possible out of her.

Nina’s vision is hazy and she’s shaking too hard to push against him anymore so she wraps her arms around his neck and shivers, whimpering with each powerful thrust.

Every nightmare starts off as a dream.

She barely registers when the knot keeping his mask on comes undone, barely understands what’s happening when it falls to the ground. She’s drunk and in a daze from coming, and it’s hard to think about anything when he’s so deep inside of her.

It takes a few seconds for her to realize what’s happened. 

She’s not sure if he’s noticed because he’s still thrusting into her without even a pause. Perhaps he just doesn't care anymore. 

Her eyes widen slowly and she stays still, trying to make sense of the face hovering just inches from her. Almost the same face she sees in the mirror, but with little, more masculine differences. 

The eyes that had lured her to this place, her prince on a white horse. The strange nostalgia of his voice and his melancholy smile. 

She screams suddenly, scrambling to get out from under him, to get him out of her. 

He grabs her hip with a firm hand, maybe hard enough to bruise. The other hand he uses to snake under her shoulder and lock her under him. 

He kisses the side of her head again, still fucking her, and whispers, “I love you, I love you, it’s okay, I love you,” over and over again, and she hears none of it over the sounds of her own choking sobs. 

“Please, please stop, please,” She cries, but she’s cut off with his mouth on hers. The world is spinning again and everything is darker now; what was once a welcomed feeling of completion is now an invasion, violent and unnatural and twisted. She feels sick. 

Johan’s thrusts are getting more urgent, his whispers of adoration are almost unintelligible between his own panting and the kisses he lays on her. All Nina can do is lie down and sob as her brother pounds into her.

She knows that there fairy tales aren't real now. Nothing can be perfect. 

She’s in a nightmare, maybe. She’ll wake up soon and Mrs. Fortner will be making breakfast and Mr. Fortner will be reading the newspaper, grumbling occasionally. She’ll go to school and tease Peter and chat with her friends and study hard. If this is just a horrible nightmare, she thinks, I won’t ask questions anymore. I was happy living simply. If I wake up, I won’t jeopardize any of it. 

Unfortunately, her reality is before her, on top of her, inside of her. 

With a particularly harsh thrust and another murmured declaration of love he’s coming, throbbing and emptying inside of her. He keeps fucking her until he’s soft, and Nina can no longer put up a fight. Her body’s still with shock, her mind’s blank in horror. 

Johan pulls out of her and raises himself off of her body, gazing down at figure serenely. He brings his hand to her entrance and rubs softly, tenderly. She throws her head to the side in shame when she feels a bit of his semen leak out from her and against his hand. 

“So beautiful, Anna.” He whispers.

She’s too broken to wonder who Anna is, to question if that had been her name at one point.

So this is what it feel like to be used, she thinks. She begins to cry again and he stops, reaching forward and bringing her limp, naked body against him, cradling her in his arms. 

He smooths her hair and softly strokes her sides while she sobs hopelessly against him. 

She knows her life as Nina Fortner is over.

“I love you.” He says, laying a soft kiss on the top of her head.


End file.
